


[Abandoned] The Trapper

by Smolkobold



Category: Furry (Fandom), Original Work
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:02:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28545279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smolkobold/pseuds/Smolkobold





	[Abandoned] The Trapper

A gentle breeze stirred through the cottage’s open window as I ate my breakfast of raw oats out of my wooden bowl. Game had been plentiful this year, but my work was far from over. The Harrison Fur Company was strict about their shipments, and if I didn’t provide the numbers, I’d be out of a job. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, I thought to myself. An experienced trapper rarely has trouble when it comes to finding food, and good men will always be willing to buy pelts at a reduced price. I leaned out the window and checked on my rack. Birds were picking at the brains smeared over the pelts.

“Hey!” I yelled, but the birds didn’t seem to take much notice. They’ve grown smart to the little roof I put over the racks, and now they don’t take much mind of my noise either. Ignoring the rest of my breakfast, I fastened my suspenders and threw on my rucksack, slamming the door behind me. The sound of fluttering wings was followed by a silence, and the birds were gone. Funny how they react more to the door than my voice. I’d have to keep it in mind for the next time I saw Joseph. Besides the nuisance the birds caused, nothing else seemed different than usual, except for one of the traps.

I could hear the wailing coming from the trap long before I was close enough to see it, and it always reminded me of a whimpering dog. Just makes my heart weak every time I hear it. There it was, a little fox with its foot caught in the teeth, screaming its lungs out at me. Of course, the trap was meant for rabbits, but it wouldn’t keep the curious little buggers from getting themselves stuck. Its eyes were bulging, and I could see where the jaw caught it on the leg. I’m not a professional vet, but I’m almost certain it would’ve broken its leg. I didn’t want the thing to suffer, so I got out my ax and gave it a whack with the side of the blade.

Easy as that, the whole thing went stiff like a log. I opened the trap back up and tossed it into my pack. Not that I’m not thankful for the find, but the weight of it made the rest of the day go by a bit slower. That sort of heaviness on your back can really wear you out if you aren’t careful. The animals were really out and about this morning. Everywhere around me, I could hear the sound of snapping branches and rustling bush. Of course, I had no idea it was you at the time.

By the time I got home, it was about noon. The sun was high in the sky, and good lord was it a scorcher. A couple hours without my hat and I’d be red as a crawdad. Of course, the fox wouldn’t take well to it at all. Another few hours and it’d start giving out a stench so I took it over to my table and got out my knife. It was my father’s knife before me, and when he gave it over he told me to take good care of it like he did. When my father tells me to do something, I listen. Of course, now the knife’s all I have to remember him by, so I take even better care of it.

I gently stuck the knife in at its chin and pulled it all the way to its crotch. A little bit of loosening up the skin and the pelt just came off like a jacket. A beautiful red one at that. It’d probably sell for quite a bit since it wasn’t all mottled like the last few I got. Thank god for the little shed I made myself for my table since it kept me cool with the window open. Over the better part of what I’d say was an hour, I had the thing butchered and the rest of the bones tossed in the bucket. I didn’t know what to do with it, so I just hung it up in my smoking shed and lit up some chips. 

I don’t really know if it freaked you out or not, to see some man like me stacking up skins in the wilderness. I thought a lot about what God would think about us grabbing creatures from the woods like this. I’m not a holy man, but I think that what I do isn’t much different from what other animals do. We all need to eat and hunt, I just do it for those that can’t themselves. In that way, I might even be a good neighbor.

The rest I had after hanging the meat to smoke was cut short though after I heard something big fooling around in the woods. Of course, I thought you were a bear or something in the beginning and I got out my rifle. When I got back to the skinning table, I saw you looking straight at me. Two huge, brown eyes staring out at me from the forest. Now I’ve seen deer before, but nothing like you. Your eyes are both right in front like a man’s, and your little crown gave me a terrible scare. It looked like jagged glass digging into your head. I’d have shot you right then and there if I wasn’t convinced you were a spirit come to take me away for hurting those animals!

Now I’m a man, but I’m not ashamed to say I screamed and ran right back in my cottage and shut all my windows. I’ll be damned if a ghost is going to take me before I’m good and ready. I sat there in the kitchen with my rifle all day, only taking a moment to light a candle once it got dark. Then I heard you sneaking around the outside of my cottage.

“Who is it?!” I called out, trying to figure out if you were a ghost, a man, or just a bear or some animal. By this point it was night, and I couldn’t see much past the door to the kitchen, let alone your slender body.

“Hello,” You called back, and I froze. Chills ran down my spine. You didn’t sound anything like any woman I’ve ever heard, but the word was clear as day. I couldn’t take any peace knowing you were just some animal. Now you were either someone here to take my pelts, or a ghost come to punish me for my mistakes.

“Don’t come any closer!” I shouted. I opened the window and fired my rifle toward the sky about half a dozen times before I closed it again and ducked under my kitchen table. As quick as that, I heard some rustling in the woods, and soon enough the regular noises of the forest came back. I didn’t dare move from under the table, and I ended up sleeping there that night. 

***

I woke up the next morning with an awful crick in my neck. I felt like stiff leather. Suddenly my gut hurt like I was eating myself from the inside out. Come to think of it I hadn’t eaten since last morning. Taking a bit of time, I cleaned out the dirty bowl from the night before and are a few fistfuls of raw oats. I felt like a horse. Rifle still in hand, I threw on my rucksack and edged myself over to the door. Opening it a crack, I checked to make sure you were gone.

Gripping my rifle like it was a slippery frog, I crept over to the smoke shack. Every bush rustling brought the hair straight up my neck. I shut myself into the tiny room and grabbed fistfuls of smoked hare, shoveling it into my mouth. The moment I opened the door again, I saw a flash of your coat in the distance, disappearing back into the brush. 

I stood still for a long while, hoping you would leave me alone, but I could still feel your wistful eyes watching me. A deep uneasy feeling came over me just thinking about it. I didn’t want to go out for the day, but the Harrison Fur Co. told me otherwise. That day I learned A hard day’s work gets a whole lot harder when you have the wits scared out of you. I checked all my traps, this time without any surprises. Tossed the little critters into my rucksack and kept moving on to the next.

The whole time I felt like I was being watched by you. Little things felt wrong. Sometimes I’d come back to a trap on the way back and it’d be moved, or I’d turn quick and hear something moving in the woods. Quickly, I ran through my usual routes, haphazardly tossing dead animals and replacing traps and bait as I saw fit before jogging back to my cottage. I picked up my table and turned it around, so I could work with my back to the log wall instead of the open forest. I stared out in the distance, but I couldn’t see your round, hazel eyes. As much as I hated to do it, I put my rifle down and picked up my blade.

I scraped the pelts with my dull, wide pelting knife and threw the excess flesh into a small wooden bucket I carved. Once I was done with that, I removed yesterday’s tanned hides and hung them on a rack to dry. The new hides went into the tub with the old oak water. I checked on the deer hide on the rack and it seemed to be coming along just fine. Looks like I owed Joseph a beer. Nobody at home would believe that you could tan a hide just by rubbing brains on it!

I opened the door to my smoke shack and hung up the new rabbits and tossed away the scraped flesh. On the way back to my cottage, I finally caught sight of you in full. You looked something like a deer, with a hide of short, sleek brown and white fur and two spade shaped ears. You were thin and athletic looking, with thick thighs ending in little black hooves with three toes. Two in the front and one in the back. It reminded me of the women with high heels I saw back in town. You had short, wild hair and a crown of cloudy green glass. If I wasn’t already stunned by the sight of you, I would have been once I noticed you had picked up my gun.

Well you aren’t a ghost, but I didn’t really know what you were. Ghosts didn’t look like deer, and they certainly didn’t steal peoples’ guns. Thieves stole guns, but they didn’t look like deer. Deer didn’t steal guns, but they looked like you. Wondering all this now was going to get me killed, so instead I stood still and held my breath. You studied the rifle with its long, metal barrel and its scarred wooden stock. You picked it up and held it like you saw me do, but you made a big mistake. You clasped the trigger like it was a solid piece of metal and a shot rang out into the woods. 

Now thank the Lord that it didn’t hit me, because that shot could have gone anywhere. The second it went off, you let out a yelp and sprinted off to the woods looking behind you. Seeing you all scared really took the fear out of my heart. At least I was being stalked by you and not something else. With a few skips and a leap into the forest, it was as if you were never there. I walked over to my rifle and brought it back inside. I put it back on its rack and had myself a nice supper. After last night it felt good to be able to. Before I went to bed I grabbed the bag of oats and threw a bunch out on the edge of my property. Maybe that’ll convince you I’m just as dangerous as you are.

***

The next morning made the events of yesterday feel like a fever dream. I’ve been alone in the woods for more than a moon, and now I’m seeing deer that look like women, or women that look like deer. I wondered if I was losing my mind. Joseph said some men go out into the woods and never come back. I told him that I’d be back in time for Winter. Hopefully I wouldn’t have a liar made out of me. I got out of bed and put my sheets back in order before I grabbed some raisins from the pantry. They tasted sweet and reminded me of Christmas pudding. After a couple of handfuls of those I threw on my pack and shot out the back door. 

I checked the pile I left the night before and smiled when I saw there was nothing left but a few scattered oats on the dirt. Looks like you and me are more alike than I thought. As I checked and reset my traps I thought about the kind of life you live. I wondered if you had a family too, one that you came back to every season. I thought about what kind of weapons you had, if you hunted or foraged or set up little houses like I do. I bagged another rabbit and tossed it in my pack. I reset the snare and kept going along my usual path. Sometimes I worry if the animals will notice my tracks, but they don’t seem to pay them any attention. 

The rest of the morning went by before I’d even noticed. Something about knowing you were watching over me felt reassuring. I didn’t know for sure you were harmless, but you sure didn’t seem like you were. Every once in a while I’d see something move in the distance and I’d feel a little less alone. By the afternoon, I started talking out loud to myself. I didn’t think you had the courage to speak out to me directly, but I thought that maybe you’d like the company too. 

I skinned and cleaned today's pelts with a good rhythm. I switched out the tanning water and threw some new pelts into the tub. The old ones went onto the rack. All this commotion must have been great for my luck, since I was a couple days ahead of schedule. There was still a bit of daylight left, so I went to the kitchen and dragged my chair outside. Now I never learned to play an instrument because my father told me it was a waste of time, and for the most part I believe it. For that one moment I really wished I knew how. I looked up to the trees and watched the robins and jays flutter around while I tried to gather my courage.

The way they tweet and chirp you’d think it’s easy, but for a man on the ground it was anything but. I cleared my throat and I began to sing. It wasn’t a pretty song, but I wasn’t a pretty singer either. It was a sailor's song I’d heard before when my uncle Wish took me out drinking some years back. My mother made me promise I’d never head out to sea when they found out he fell overboard. I think they sang it as his funeral too, “I'll return again next morn”. 

By the end of the song, I could feel myself sweating. Without a clear eye on you, it felt like the whole forest was watching. I thanked you for listening, and I took my chair back inside. I laid out more oats for you the same as last night, but this time I left some raisins for you as well. To soothe my nerves and my voice, I boiled the kettle and sat in the kitchen with my tea. I dunked my hard biscuits into the hot water and enjoyed myself a little snack. Supplies were growing thin besides the smoked rabbit, deer and fox I’d caught. I was out of raisins and flour now, and soon to be out of biscuits and oats too. The only thing I hadn’t gone through at this point was the bottle of rum I bought for a special occasion. I would have to take a trip back to Birton before the end of next week.

I threw down my pack and took the candle to my bedroom. My buddy Joe told me I could use animal fat to make an oil but I never bothered to learn how. Maybe I’ll ask him when I get back. My mind started to wander and I closed my windows. It was starting to get a bit nippy now that the sun goes down so early. I blew out my candle and watched the smoke billow and twist through the air lethargically. I slipped into my sheets and for once I had a lucid dream that I was made of smoke. I twisted and turned and rose high into the sky, delicately placing a trap in the air. The sun unwittingly soared straight into my net and I held it in place above my cottage so that you could have time enough to get used to me.

I waited and waited until my smoke grew thin and I wondered where you were. I looked past the horizon and I saw you in the distance under shimmering yellow moonlight. I released the sun and once again you chased after its bushy tail. By the time you turned the world again we had the briefest moment before I faded into thin air. The next morning I awoke very early in a cold sweat. As foolish as it is I grabbed onto myself to make sure I wasn’t smoke, in the off chance that I had been dreaming the other way around. Relief only came when I got up and struck a match to light up the lamp in my kitchen.

***


End file.
